07-08-13: verse 1 – Brooklyn masala😜


I met her on the corner of Gates n Bedstuy
It was only right that I approached and said “hi”
cuz she looked like no other chick I ever saw
she was on her way coming about the cornerstore
I asked “could I carry your bags?” and walk you home
I can tell she was new in New York, just from her tone
cuz she wasn’t that typical, rude and ignorant, teeth-sucking and
eye-rolling girl tellin me to leave her alone
We dipped and we yapped, we chit and we chat
about this and that and where she lived at, yeah
This may sound kinda Wu Tang Clan-ish
but this butter-pecan honey was not Spanish
She lived like 3 blocks from my man
in New York for 6 months, moved from Pakistan
Well that explains the strange accent and the strange clothes
and that cute little diamond in your nose
She said “I gotta wear this gear every Sunday, but..
you gotta see how I look on Monday” Word?!?
Meaning that I can see you again? Maybe..
give you a call… take you out on a weekend?
She winked at me and kinda laughed
ripped a piece of the grocery bag and wrote her math
You can bet your last damn dollar
that I’mma give you a call… Brooklyn Masala

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